Kicking
by MasterFinland
Summary: Feeling your child kick for the first time is an unforgettable sensation. Spamano. Fem!Spain.


It was a normal Saturday afternoon in the Vargas-Fernandez household.

Spain and Romano sat in the heavily air conditioned den, both relaxing in their respective spaces. The Spanish woman was on the couch, absentmindedly massaging her bulging belly as she boredly flipped through channels on the TV. There was nothing interesting on at all, no matter where she looked.

Romano sat rather awkwardly on the armchair next to the couch, with his feet over one side and his head over the other, attempting to catch a few more hours of sleep on his lazy day off. He hadn't been able to fall asleep the night before. He'd simply been too tired to do so.

"Lovino? Are you asleep, mi amor?" The Italian man only grunted to inform his wife that he was awake, not even attempting to move from his obviously more-than-uncomfortable position.

Isabella giggled. "Wake up, Romanito. It's not siesta time yet," she cooed. "We still have a few more hours until then." Lovino groaned, rolling his head ever so slightly so that he was facing her.

"Sono stanco." Spain rolled her chartreuse eyes at her silly husband. She at shooed him with her hand, a cheery pout on her face.

"Move it, esposo. The bebé wants some churros triple dipped in chocolate." Romano sighed, pulling himself from the chair with great effort. He trudged to the Spaniard, grasping her hands to help pull her from the soft couch she'd sunk into.

"Gracias, Roma. It's getting much harder to do things now that I'm so big." He nodded, following her to the kitchen. Isabella's right hand was on her lower back, her left placed under her belly as she waddled from the cool room to the much hotter one in search of her beloved churros. Romano held her waist, attempting to help steady her.

The kitchen was always hot, no matter how high the two cranked up the AC. Isabella supposed it was the outrageous amount of windows the room seemed to have. Romano disagreed, telling her that it was just because they didn't have a damn air conditioner in the kitchen, where they needed one.

Spain was currently only four months pregnant, but looked close to six. She wasn't having twins- thank goodness- they'd checked with her personal doctor a month or so beforehand to make sure.

"Silly bambino," Lovino muttered when they stopped, squatting down and moving his hands to rub her belly. "Stop causing your mamma so much trouble."

Isabella smiled warmly at him, running her fingers through his thick hair. She loved it when Lovino opened up and talked to the baby. It wasn't often he did such things, for fear of embarrassing himself. His face would turn a ripe shade of red every time he spoke to their unborn child, but Isabella could tell it made him happy.

"Te amo, Lovi~ Eres muy bueno conmigo." She beamed at him, tears in her eyes, her watery smile lighting up the entire room. The Italian chuckled, standing up and leaning over to kiss the top of her head.

"I try, tesoro. Ti amo molto." They hugged in the center of the kitchen, Isabella crying softly into Lovino's white cotton t-shirt.

Romano rubbed her back and stroked her hair, kissing her head and murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. He told her a joke or two, just to make her laugh. Lovino's jokes were always corny and horrible, so horrible that it made them funny.

They always made Spain smile.

When she was calm, she looked at her husband through her bangs. "Lo siento, Lovi. I don't know what came over me." She hiccupped, using the heel of her palms to wipe at her wet face.

"Va tutto bene, Isabella. It's not your fault, it's just the bambino making your lady hormones go all crazy and shit." She smiled, wrapping her arms around him once more. He squeezed back, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Lovi!" She squealed, laughing.

That tickled!

Romano smirked, a dry chuckle escaping his mouth. He stood back, a huge grin on his face.

"You wanted churros, sí?" He held her hand, walking to a chair and helping her sit. Isabella nodded, yet again attempting to rub her face free of tears.

Lovino set to work on the churros. He started with the chocolate, putting the required amount of chips, butter, sugar and milk into a pot. He liked making the chocolate simple, nothing too sweet. He always added some almonds and a smidgen of cinnamon to the recipe. He threw each ingredient into their fondue maker, adding a little extra milk just in case.

Next, Lovino began working on the dough. It was already pre made from yesterday, because Isabella had decided she just _had _to make some churros, but didn't even end up finishing her task before bursting into tears. Lovino had put them away quickly before comforting his wife. He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory, resuming rolling out the dough. He fixed the shape, coating them with cinnamon. Pulling out a pan and spraying it with some nonstick, he set the oven. Once significantly heated, Lovino placed the churros into the oven to bake. It would take around twenty minutes before they were done, but the two of them could wait. Churros were always worth it in the end.

"Come and sit with me, Lovi~ Quiero un poco de compañía." Isabella giggled, patting the tabletop next to her. Lovino rolled his eyes, walking over and sitting down in the old wooden chair, the object creaking and groaning at his weight. He smiled at her warmly, her own smile ever brighter. She giggled, waving at him.

"Hola, marido~" Lovino rolled his eyes fondly, smirking, waving back.

"Ciao, moglie." He laced their fingers together, smiling at his giggling wife. He gazed at her warmly, pulling one of his hands free to rest in her overstretched stomach. She giggled, placing her hand over his own. Lovino slid from the chair to the floor, placing his face on her belly. His ear and cheeks pressed to her stomach. He could hear the tiny fluttering from his child, causing him to smile.

He pulled his hands and face away, rising to meet her. He lopped his fingers into his wife's soft, curly brown locks, massaging gently. He kissed her forehead, moving to her nose, then her cheeks, the Spanish woman giggling madly. Finally their lips met chastly, Lovino pulling back slowly, the smile on his face looking angelic in the sunlight. Isabella flushed at his adorably handsome face.

"Oh Dio…" She breathed, reaching out to touch his face. She barely managed to brush her fingertips against his cheeks before a strange, bubbly feeling took over her. "O-Oh! Oh Dio!" She squealed, dropping her hands to her overextended belly. Lovino jumped, startled and panicked.

"Isabella?! Is everything okay, amore?! What's wrong?!" Isabella flet around her stomach, her expression one of confusion. She peeked up at her husband, a strange look on her face.

"Pienso… Pienso que pateó!" She gasped, her eyes widening. "Tacto!" She yanked his hands to her belly, placing them over a certain spot on the lower right corner. Lovino's eyes widened, his previously limp hands regaining the ability to feel.

"Isabella! I-It's-It's kicking Isabella!" His head shot up from his place, his eyes wide in wonder and excitement. "Esso è calci, Isabella! Oh Dio!" Isabella laughed with her husband, both elated to feel their child for the first time.

"Sí, Lovi! Sí, sí!" She sobbed happily, tears gushing at an unstable pace. "Estoy tan feliz, Lovino, estoy tan feliz!" She laughed, rubbing the place her child was moving. The grins on the two nation's faces couldn't be matched to anything other than the image of Heaven itself.

"Te amo, Sur Italia!"

"Ti amo anche, Spagna!" Lovino, tears beginning to spill hastily, grinned at his wife, the picture of love and elation.

* * *

><p>Feeling your child kick for the first time is an unforgettable sensation. The two would remember it for the rest of their lives, no matter how many centuries more that would be.<p> 


End file.
